


It wasn't your time

by slouise32



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Clay | Dream Kills TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Ghost Sleepy Bois Inc, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, No Romance, Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Physical Abuse, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29807880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slouise32/pseuds/slouise32
Summary: In which Wilbur is there to welcome Tommy home.(contains major spoilers from Tommy's stream on 1st March 21)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 99
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	It wasn't your time

**Author's Note:**

> This is a headcanon that came to me immediately after Tommy's stream and has been playing on my brain ever since. I was going to have it as two chapters, but the first chapter would simply be a recount of the stream so I left it all as one!

‘I might as well be a God, Tommy! You can’t kill me, and I can kill you.’ Dream gloats. He’s working away at Tommy, chipping him down brick by brick, anything to get back the power he had over the younger man while in exile – the same power he’d lost in the time he’d spent staring at the deep purple obsidian in the last.. who knows? Dream has lost count of days, weeks, months. While he may not know the day, what he does know is that he has the one person in front of him that can help him, that can get him out of this god forsaken cell.

‘What is wrong- do you hear yourself? Do you hear yourself?’ Tommy is frantic, ‘you’re fucking up your own ass; you’re self-obsessed, Dream.’ The words reverberate through the small box they’ve shared for a week, caught only by the steady sound of lava falling. Tommy’s grown sick of the lava, a painful and constant reminder that he is here, in this cell, with the one person he thought he was finally out of the grasp of. Every day when he wakes, he sees the lava before he sees anything else, before he sees Dream, and he almost thinks it's worse. 

‘What does that mean?’ the older man laughs, ‘If you can’t kill me, does that make me some kind of God? Does that make me some kind of-‘ this time, it’s Tommy’s turn to cut him off with a callous laugh.

‘Can’t kill me- that makes me- fucking strong-‘ he’s falling over his words. Adrenaline courses through the younger’s veins as he mocks the man in front of him, the man that has held a grasped hand at the scruff of Tommy’s neck for months, finally reduced to nothing. Here, in this bulletproof room (Tommy is still cursing Sam for making it just so impenetrable – “ _Tubbo would have broken me out, if he could_ ” Tommy has been telling himself), Dream is reduced to nothing and Tommy is finally able to say just exactly what he’s been thinking without the fear, without the vulnerability he's had around this man for months, ‘Shut the-‘

Before he can process it, Dream’s fist meets Tommy’s head with a resounding thud.

‘No, Dream,’ he starts, but his voice remains level. He’s used to fighting with Dream – hell, the first few days they were in more scuffles than either could keep count of, both black and blue. ‘I could kill you,’ he continues, ‘right now, if I wanted to.’ Two more hits land, one on Tommy's chest and one on his ribs as he recoils. Here, without his usual mask that everyone has grown so accustomed to, Tommy can see Dream’s face. He doesn’t seem scared, or even angry – there’s a look of something else in his eyes that Tommy can’t quite place. A brief thought flashes through Tommy’s head that maybe Dream wears the mask not to hide himself, but to hide others. It must be easier to manipulate someone when you can’t see the emotion in their face.

‘Okay, but you won’t! You won’t!’ Dream yells, breaking Tommy from his thoughts. Dream knows this. But Tommy knows this too. By losing Dream, he loses his brother too. Hell, maybe Wilbur doesn’t even want to be alive – he made that perfectly clear to Tommy in those precious moments after he got his discs back – but the selfish instinct is still present in Tommy, just like it is in most children. He wants Wilbur back alive, so he’s going to keep Dream alive and get him to do exactly that if for nothing but his own gain.

‘You know why I won’t?’ Tommy is getting angry now as another hit sends him stumbling in to the obsidian wall, ‘because I’m leaving-‘ Dream hits him in the jaw again, this one sending the back of the head in to cell wall with a stomach churning crack. Tommy feels a trickle of blood through his matted hair. Why isn’t Dream letting up? ‘this prison in a-‘ another, to the chest again. Tommy can feel his health depleting rapidly, but he isn’t going to show Dream this. Tommy isn’t weak.

‘No, you don’t want to.’ Dream says with a smirk. For a week, Dream has been working valiantly to convince Tommy to join forces with him. Each time, Tommy reminds him about exile, the repeated burning of any possession he had, how he would _never_ be his ally. Dream winds back his arm again. This time, Tommy hits first. It doesn't have much force to it, but it's enough to take Dream aback.

‘Don’t fucking- I’m- fuck-‘ There’s a ripple of panic going through his body now, accompanying the searing pain, that maybe Dream isn’t going to stop. _No, that’s stupid_ , he thinks to himself, _Dream gains nothing from that._ Tommy knows that Dream has an escape plan, anyone stuck in this prison would have a damn escape plan, and Tommy also knows that he happens to be dead centre of the other man’s idea.

Dream strikes Tommy again.

Tommy’s hands are starting to shake now, his vision blurring and mouth filling with blood. He spits to the floor of the cell. The red blends well with the deep purple of the building materials that Tommy is sure Sam spent weeks mining. Tommy wishes he didn't. 

In the second Tommy isn't giving Dream his full attention, the latter crosses the space between the two and grabs the back of Tommy's head with one hand. Dragging a fistful of hair, he forces Tommy's face only inches away from his own. He's still smiling. 

Tommy wishes he was still wearing the mask. 

‘Stop it, you-‘ a crunch. Tommy knows that was his nose, a blinding pain rising through the centre of his face. He raises his hands above his head, cowering, ‘stop it now! Stop it! Stop it!’ he sucks in a deep breath, ‘I’m on two hearts’. He curses himself for showing his weakness to Dream. From the power moves he pulled in the Vault just weeks ago to this. To a cowering, trembling mess at the hands of his abuser. Dream drops Tommy's hair from his hand, and Tommy isn’t sure which part of his body is in the most pain. He’s pretty sure he’s lost a tooth and possibly broken a rib in the process. With a deep breath, Tommy tries to steady his voice enough to speak.

‘Look at me,’ he puts his shaking hands to the side of his body, picking his next words carefully, ‘alright? The only reason that I’m not is because I know you’re in this prison,’ Dream is looking at him with a gaze Tommy can’t quite read. He settles on confusion, ‘and I’m going to get my little scooter out-‘ _scooter?_ Tommy thinks, but he continues on, ‘and I’ll be fine, Dream. You, just stuck in here forever. I don’t think this revival book is real,’ he blurts. Fuck. His only leverage over Dream was that book; if it wasn’t real, what was Tommy keeping him alive for? He racks his brain quickly as he scoffs. ‘Schlatt, he’s fucking dead,’ Tommy still holds a glimmer of hope that Wilbur might be out there somewhere, but Schlatt? Tommy couldn’t care less whether Schlatt was alive, dead, or burning in hell. ‘I’ve seen his grave, his grave is real, his corpse is in there!’ Dream smiles something wicked, and this time Tommy can pinpoint his emotion like he could pinpoint L’Manberg on a map. Dream is furious.

Another punch. Tommy wonders how Dream’s hands aren’t getting tired at this point as he begins to blur in and out of consciousness, unable to catch his breath. ‘Why don’t you go-‘ Tommy isn’t sure how much more he can take as he receives another punch from Dream, ‘and see him then.’ Tommy’s heart skips. He might be young, but he isn’t stupid. Dream is going to kill him.

Tommy thinks of Wilbur. Did Wilbur feel this? Did he feel the fear of dying in those brief moments before Phil took his life? Did it hurt, or did he take death by the hand in a sombre moment of acceptance?

‘No! No! No! Stop it!’ he swings feebly at Dream, the hit landing with barely a sound.

Tommy thinks of Tubbo. It was supposed to be them until the end, the sound of laughter over the background noise of those stupid discs. The discs seem miles away from what’s currently unfolding in front of him, but even they don’t feel as far away as Tubbo. It was always them against Dream and Tommy has a painstaking flash of grief take over his body as he realises that he’s never done this alone. Every single time he’d brawled with Dream, Tubbo was always by his side.

His Tubbo.

‘Stop it, stop it, stop it!’

Tommy thinks of Sam. Sam promised he’d be out in 7 days. Sam was supposed to find the security breach and let him go, just like in the contract. The stupid contract, the _stupid fucking contract_ that Dream wrote this whole time. He was supposed to be with Sam right now, collecting his things from the locker one. 

Sam was supposed to keep him safe.

‘Stop, s-‘ Tommy’s voice falls and he glances to the lava, slowly realising that his efforts were in vain as he stands on half a heart with Dream’s fist gearing up again. He’d be damned if the last thing he was going to see before his death was Dream’s face, Dream’s callous, smiling face.

Tommy wishes he was still wearing the mask.

Another hit.

The sound of the lava silences.

When Tommy opens his eyes, he hopes he’ll be greeted with the obsidian roof of the cell, the one he’s spent hours looking at. If he’s incredibly lucky, maybe Sam has carried him to somewhere safer, somewhere away from Dream.

What he doesn’t expect to see is the blue sky.

Eyes unaccustomed to the light, he squeezes them back shut and lies for a moment. He’s outside again. The grass stabs uncomfortably into his back, but that’s the only pain he can feel. He runs his tongue around the inside of his mouth – _all his teeth are still there_ , he thinks to himself. His mouth isn’t bleeding anymore, his bones don’t hurt. Tommy opens his eyes again. Clouds are moving lazily in the sky above him, but the sky is fading, the sunset beginning to peak over the horizon. With a slow and unsteady movement, he sits up, hands reaching to rub at his face. When he pulls them away again, he blinks.

He’s outside of his house, the house that served as the embassy to L’Manberg, the house where he and Tubbo had stood valiantly before the final disc fight, the house they had returned to afterwards, victorious smiles on their faces, discs clutched firmly in hands and hope in their hearts.

Slowly, as thought expecting to wake up at any given moment, he scans the surroundings. Everything looks eerily similar, like he hasn’t really been away at all. _It was only a week_ , he reminds himself. His eyebrows knit together in confusion – why would Sam not leave him in the prison? Why would Sam carry him home, then leave him in his own front garden? Where were all his belongings?

Tommy’s eyes settle to the right of his field of view. The bench. Their bench.

But it isn’t empty.

On the splintered wood sits a man.

He’s brunette, but too tall to be Tubbo – no, Tubbo isn’t that tall at all. Tommy stands slowly, eyes never leaving the back of the man’s head. He’s half obscured by the tree sitting right behind the slapdash structure he holds so dear, but the man is wearing a mustard coloured jumper, one that looks strangely similar to-

‘Wilbur?’ Tommy speaks quietly. His voice cracks and he coughs, attempting in vain to cover it. The man stands, his back still facing Tommy. There’s a thunderous heartbeat pounding in Tommy’s ears and his stomach churns. If Wilbur was here, like this, then that means-

‘It wasn’t your time, Tommy.’ Wilbur’s voice is low, cutting Tommy from his thoughts. The older man turns, allowing Tommy to see his face. He looks how Tommy remembered him in life, but today his face is etched in pain.

‘Did you..’ Tommy trails off, looking at the floor and kicking up some grass beneath his shoes. His white shoes. No armour, no ‘Tommy Slippers’, just the same pair of white shoes he’s had since the beginning.

‘Did I know? I felt it, Tommy. Just like how I did during your disc fight with Dream, how I told you I could feel the afterlife reaching for you. I don’t know what it is with you, with _us_ , Tommy, but I felt it. I knew you’d be here, where else would you be, if not here? If not with this house, this bench, with your damn prime path.’ Wilbur lets out a laugh, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. ‘I’ve been keeping an eye on you,’ he continues, stepping closer to Tommy, ‘what happened? Where was Sam?’ The anger bubbles through Tommy again.

‘I don’t know, Wilbur!’ he shouts, ‘there was a “security breach”, then he left me in there. He left me in there to die,’ Tommy’s voice is full of spite that catches Wilbur by surprise, ‘he was there, and I told him- no, I _begged_ him to let me out, and he left. He left, Wilbur!’ he’s still shouting, and Wilbur knows to stay quiet and let him get it out. Tommy kicks further at the ground. ‘He fucking left me in there and let me die, he knew what Dream was capable of. Why wasn’t he keeping me safe? He said he’d keep me safe, Wilbur.’ Tears are stinging at Tommy’s eyes as he wildly gestures his arms, looking anywhere but Wilbur’s face.

A sigh permeates the stagnant air.

‘I know.’ Wilbur has closed the distance, standing barely inches from Tommy, who has his face in his hands. The older of the pair choses simply to wait, aware that the younger is a fuse that could blow at the slightest spark. To Wilbur’s surprise, he doesn’t blow. In the smallest voice, Tommy speaks.

‘I didn’t even get to say goodbye.’ Wilbur is taken aback by arms around his shoulders. In this moment, he sees it. He sees what everyone fails to see when they look at Tommy, even what he had failed to see while watching from a distance; everyone sees the war hero, victim, the _main character_.

Wilbur sees a boy.

A boy who has seen too much, who has been through too much, who has lost too much. A boy who has fought wars, fought a tyrant, seen his best friend extradite him from the nation he helped to build and fought so valiantly for. A boy who lost his brother. A boy who spent the last few days of his life surrounded by his biggest fears – a small obsidian box with no escape, and Dream. Wilbur cursed Dream, but now wasn’t the time.

No, they’d have plenty of time for talking about Dream. Right now, Wilbur wraps his arms around Tommy and lets him sob.

‘I didn’t get to say goodbye,’ Tommy repeats, clutching the fabric of Wilbur’s jumper. ‘not to anyone. Not to Sam, not to Ranboo, to Puffy, to Jack, to- to-‘ Tommy can’t even spit out Tubbo’s name.

‘I know,’ Wilbur knows that right now, as the pair stand outside of Tommy’s house, there is nothing he can say to make the boy feel any better, ‘but they know too, Tommy. All of them knew just how much you cared. Especially Tubbo. When the dust settles again, we can see him. Just like I used to come and see you, we can go to your Tubbo.’ Wilbur conveniently leaves out the fact that he has watched Tubbo for the last hour, that he seems cold to the death of his best friend. Tommy’s sobs begin to subside.

‘Okay,’ he sniffles, ‘okay’. He pulls away from Wilbur, but Wilbur drags him back to a hug and rests a head on his shoulder.

‘It’s good to have you back, brother’.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys I am actually in physical pain after writing this <3  
> I am a firm believe in Canon!SBI Family and that Wilbur would be ready to welcome Tommy to the afterlife with him, if you disagree then respectfully, no :) /j  
> This was literally the first piece I've wrote since maybe 2016, so pls be nice (or don't I mean I really can't stop you)


End file.
